[DISCONTINUED] Helping Hand|| A Natepat Story

Intro - Part 1: Helping Hand [NATE]

Introduction - Part 1: Helping Hand

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I never wanted to be the way I am.

I had no control over my situation, let alone myself.

Cryptic, am I right. Yeah, that happens when I get existential.

Let me explain my situation as rationally and as calmly as I can this moment.

Hello, I am Nathan Smith and I have a problem.

Well, everyone does, isn't that some cold hard truth.

But, since my problem makes me act differently, I'm judged. But it's just a problem in reality (isn't that a funny thing).

For my family, it's a reason to push me away.

For strangers and acquaintances, it's a disease or a horrible disability.

For me it is a hardship I will never pass.

It all started when I was 3, a long time ago. I don't remember much from when I was younger but this day always stuck in my mind.

I was acting off lately, they said, but not to my knowledge. I was going to help my mom in the kitchen, since I had just ripped apart my stuffed bear and had nothing else to do.

My mom was making homemade chicken noddle stew for dinner, my favorite at the time. I tugged on her dress bottom, hoping to get her attention, which I didn't.

At the same time, anger and excitement filled me, making me tug on her dress harder, to which she still didn't feel.

I could see her, she had a CD playing next to her, while she was cutting up some carrots. Daddy said she always went into her own world sometimes.

Out of pure anger, I pushed my mother as hard as I could while screaming "MOMMY!"

My mother tripped on her feet, making her land, the knife coming down with her too...

My mother fell but caught herself with her hands pushing herself up, she was facing downward, her breathing heavy. The knife was not in her hands as it was before.

It had slide over in front of my feet.

Before my mother could see me or the knife, I grabbed the metal object, held it close to my chest, and made a bee line to my room.

I closed the door, dropping the knife on my bed and pulled a small chair over to the door. I then climbed on top of it and reached for the handle, quietly locking the door.

Mommy would probably find out that her knife is missing, I just wanted to see it. I went over to my closet and picked out a doll from my collection, a one with red hair and a clown face. I hated this doll, and haven't seemed to be able to get rid of it.

It would move around my room, talk to me, saying that I should get the knife. Now, even though I did get the knife, it was for me, not the doll.

"What have you done now, Nathan." The female doll said in a high voice that hurt my ears.

I squeezed her head, making her yelp. A bit of stuffing fell out of her, more and more pouring out. "No."

I threw her at my bed, making her hit the headboard and knock more stuffing out of her. "Ow! You could have done it nicer!"

I glared at her before pulling myself onto my bed, standing up on my soft comforter, finding the knife immediately. It was beautiful.